


A Black Christmas

by TheGintons



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adult Content, Christmas Special, Murder Mystery, New Year's Eve, original episode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGintons/pseuds/TheGintons
Summary: Exactly at midnight on New Year’s Eve, ninety-eight people are killed.A new Sherlock Christmas special.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> We are filmmakers as well as fans of Sherlock, and so this is a fan-script . Please read it as if you were just given a never-before-seen Christmas special for season 1: a good old fun, suspenseful, satisfying murder mystery.  
> Have fun & happy new year!  
> Oh, and obviously, we don't own Sherlock.

 

 

SHERLOCK

"A Black Christmas"

 

TEASER

 

FADE IN:

INT. LUX FLAT. NIGHT

A crowd is gathered in front of an oval room's full length windows. It is the top floor of a London skyscraper. Everyone is in their 20s or 30s and sporting chic, expensive garments.

Some people are scattered - passed out on the sofa or making out in the hallway – but most of them are looking out the windows, drinking and laughing.

The chatter dies out. A moment of silence, and then they all start counting down.

ROOM  
(shouting)  
Ten… nine… eight…

A blond youth in a crimson blazer chokes on his drink. People around him go on with the countdown as he grabs his chest and falls to the floor. His bloodshot eyes are wide open. He repeatedly spasms.

 

INT. HOME FOR THE ELDERLY. NIGHT

A few rows of folding chairs are placed around the heart of a grayish front room. Three worn out elders occupy the seats. A wooden cabinet and some pale balloons taped to the walls are the only additional furniture in the room.

Merely one couple is up, slow-dancing at the centre. The old lady is wearing a plastic tiara and is smiling while resting her head on the old man's shoulder. He is gazing at her through a pair of thick lens glasses.

RADIO TRANSMISSION  
Seven… six…

The old lady freezes. Her fingers clasp around the old man's sides, digging through the jumper and into his skin. She looks up at him, trembling.

The old man is staring right back at her, mouth open in a silent cry, fingers clutching.

They both collapse.

 

INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT

The fluorescent illuminated office space is decorated with bright foils, balloons and fringe garlands. The policemen pass between them bottles of sparkling wine as they're counting down.

ROOM  
(shouting)  
Five… four…

A fat sergeant with his shirt undone blows his party horn ahead of time.

FAT SERGEANT  
(laughs)  
Whoops!

An assistant commissioner gets on a table and raises his glass in the air. His hold loosens and the glass is falling down, the assistant commissioner soon following.

Some heads are turning his way.

Bubbly liquid spills in the air, splitting into shiny little droplets as the falling man claws at his face.

 

INT./EXT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS. NIGHT

A woman in a sparkly dress, walking with her friends down the street; a man at a roof party, holding hands with his wife and child; a homeless guy crouching next to a storefront window; three young men in a club; a businessman dining with his associates in a fancy restaurant – one by one, they all fall.

ROOM (O.S.)  
(shouting)  
Three… two… one…

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. NIGHT

Distant voices of people cheering.

Outside the window, the night sky is lit up by fireworks.

SHERLOCK draws the curtains closed and scowls.

SHERLOCK  
Dull.

 

END OF TEASER

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. DAY

JOHN is in the kitchen, eating breakfast and reading the morning newspaper, which lays flat on the table with its back side up.

Sherlock, wrapped in his dressing gown, drags himself onto the chair opposite John and yawns.

JOHN  
Awful, just awful, this whole church business.

Sherlock reaches over for John's tea and brings it to his own lips, but pauses.

SHERLOCK  
Oh, please. When priests won't be raping kids, then you can call me. Now that will be a mystery.

He smiles at his own joke and takes a sip.

JOHN  
There's a bagel.

SHERLOCK  
(drinking the tea)  
Mmm?

JOHN  
There's a bagel. In my plate. You know, in case you're hungry.

Sherlock puts down the empty mug and frowns at it.

SHERLOCK  
This is Chai. I hate chai. What did you make it for?

JOHN  
I…  
(sighs)  
I honestly don't know.

John picks up the newspaper and buries his face in the back page.

Sherlock opens his mouth, but as he lifts his head up, he freezes and just stares at his side of the newspaper. His eyes are rapidly scanning the lines.

SHERLOCK  
John?

JOHN  
Can't you just let me read about the bloody pedophiles?

SHERLOCK  
John!

Sherlock pulls the newspaper out of John's hands and turns it around, so that John can see the front headline.

It reads: 98 PEOPLE DEAD – A NEW YEAR'S TRAGEDY.

John gawks at it.

JOHN  
Ninety-eight people dead?! What, in… in a day?

SHERLOCK  
(biggest smile ever)  
In a night, John. In a night!

JOHN  
How?

SHERLOCK  
Cardiac arrest, it seems.

JOHN  
No, I mean… how?

Sherlock receives a text message from Mycroft: "I hope you're on it".

He abruptly stands up and heads for his room.

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
A tragedy, they call it. A tragedy. Huh!

John keeps on reading when he gets a text message himself. It's also from Mycroft: "Is he on it?"

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(O.S.)  
Tell him I'm not interested!

John grabs the bagel and moves to the lounge, taking his jacket off the sofa.

He texts Mycroft back: "Like a child on his very first murder scene".

Sherlock reappears, all dressed up and ready to go.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
How do I look?

He snatches John's bagel and takes a bite just as MRS. HUDSON enters the room.

MRS. HUDSON  
(radiating)  
Oh, Sherlock, Have you heard?

Sherlock hands her the bagel, then lifts her up in his arms and spins once before putting her down again.

SHERLOCK  
Mrs. Hudson, this is going to be the most wonderful year.

With that, he exits.

John is headed after him. When he passes by Mrs. Hudson he reaches for his bagel, but Mrs. Hudson just slaps his hand away. He leaves empty handed.

 

INT./EXT. A CAB. DAY

Sherlock and John are sitting at the back of the car. Both are busy with their smartphones.

JOHN  
How are you even going to start solving this? I mean, even for you, that's…

SHERLOCK  
I don't know yet.

JOHN  
But that's…

SHERLOCK  
Fun?

Sherlock sends a text message: "Bring them all".

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(smiling)  
Sure is.

John keeps looking at his mobile.

JOHN  
It says there is no link between the victims. None.

SHERLOCK  
Of course there's a connection. They just didn't publish it.

JOHN  
But who killed all those people? And why on New Year's?

SHERLOCK  
How, why, who… Everyone's always asking the wrong questions.

JOHN  
Sounds like perfect questions to me.  
(pauses)  
One more question.

SHERLOCK  
Yes?

JOHN  
Where exactly are we going?

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter is out - come and get it!  
> Also, please feel free to speculate! After all, this is a mystery story.

 

 

INT. MORGUE. DAY

Sherlock and John enter the room and make their way through the rows of dead bodies to LESTRADE and MOLLY.

SHERLOCK  
What's the connection?

MOLLY  
Oh, good morning.

LESTRADE  
Time and cause of death.  
They all suffered a heart attack at midnight.

JOHN  
Good morning, Molly.  
(to Lestrade)  
Don't we have a specific time of death?

LESTRADE  
I just told you. Midnight.  
That is, exactly midnight.

JOHN  
What, all of them?

Sherlock arrives at the centre of the room and looks around him.

SHERLOCK  
I meant the connection  
between them, the people.

LESTRADE  
Between them? There isn't one.

Sherlock snaps his head at Lestrede's direction.

SHERLOCK  
No. There has to be.

LESTRADE  
It's just a bunch of random folks.

SHERLOCK  
That's one way of saying  
you're missing something.

Sherlock is now passing between the bodies, examining them closely with his magnifying glass. He notice all kinds of different things: "hates his children"; "aspiring comedian"; "sex change… twice".

LESTRADE  
Do you have any idea what caused the heart failure?

SHERLOCK  
(to John)  
See what I meant about asking the wrong questions?

John and Lestrade exchange glances.

LESTRADE  
I need a weapon, a motive, something. Anything.

Sherlock is looking at a body's wrist.

MOLLY  
We already searched for needle marks, drugs  
or elevated compound levels in their blood,  
but there's nothing.

SHERLOCK  
Where did they die?

LESTRADE  
Everywhere, really. All over Britain.  
At a pool party, at their local pub, we even had someone  
who got tickets to the Floating Masquerade Ball.

MOLLY  
I'd die of a heart attack for that.

She smiles at Sherlock but he's not looking.

SHERLOCK  
They all celebrated New Year's?

LESTRADE  
Now that you mention it, yes.  
I mean, them and the rest of Britain.

The door opens and twenty more bodies are being rolled by nurses into the already packed room.

JOHN  
Perhaps we're dealing with multiple killers here.

SHERLOCK  
Only if ninety-eight people wanted to get rid of the same other ninety-eight people  
while drawing a ridiculous amount of attention to themselves. Any survivors?

LESTRADE  
None that I know of.

Sherlock takes another look around him, but there is an overload of information; he sees so many things that it's like seeing nothing.

He shakes his head.

SHERLOCK  
No, it's impossible to examine every single one.  
We're missing something. We're all missing something.  
Where are the new ones?

JOHN, MOLLY and LESTRADE  
(together)  
What new ones?

SHERLOCK  
The new victims, obviously. Contact the other hospitals  
and find out where they are. We need to know how they're different.

Molly nods and leaves.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
He's smart, I'll give him that. Even though he-

LESTRADE  
"He"? Who's "he"?! I can't even prove this is murder!

SHERLOCK  
The runner up for your job must have been so stupid.

LESTRADE  
Dozens of heart attacks around Britain at the exact same moment.  
If this is a homicide, then the killer is god!

Molly comes back.

MOLLY  
Sherlock, there are no more victims.

Sherlock straightens up.

SHERLOCK  
Are you certain?

Everyone is silent. All heads are turned to Sherlock, who smiles.

SHERLOCK  
Interesting. He didn't know. He only found out this morning…  
(to Lestrade)  
Call me again when the others drop dead. And bring them here.  
(to John)  
Come on, we're not finished yet.

Sherlock and John walk out the door.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(shouting as they leave)  
For a god, he really screwed up.

 

 

INT.POLICE STATION – INVESTIGATION ROOM. DAY

Helmuth, a wrinkled old man, is sitting in front of a shiny, metallic table. He has eyes so blue they almost look white.

HELMUTH  
(with German accent)  
At first he just kind of stood there.  
Didn't say anything, just froze, like a statue.  
Only, you could tell he was looking at his arm, really looking.  
Like there was something on it, but there wasn't.  
Then he started taking everything off.  
His shirt, his slacks and underwear, his socks.  
Everything except his glasses.  
He collapsed and begun scratching himself,  
really scratching everywhere and drawing blood,  
all naked on the floor right in front of us.  
His boy, the little one, was already crying by then.  
That's when we called for help.  
But according to the paramedics, at this point he was probably already gone.  
His heart just stopped. How strange, at his age.  
(coughs for a few seconds)  
He was on no medications, had no mental illnesses,  
yet he was actually seeing something crawl all over him.  
(coughs roughly)  
I know what it was, though. I know what he thought was on him.  
Spiders. You see, he was arachnophobic. It was the fear. I could see it in his eyes.  
He got so scared, it killed him. That's why. That's why he kept screaming:  
"Get them off! Get them off of me!"

Sherlock and John are sitting across the table from him, completely silent.

 

 

LATER

At the metallic table sits Claudia, a six year old.

CLAUDIA  
He told me to hide under the bed and to never come out,  
and that if I did come out then they will find me and shoot me in the head,  
like they did mum.  
And then he fell and now he's dead.  
No one hurt him or anything. He was fine before, I think.  
Except he was kind of creepy, but he's always like that.  
He has weird stuff in is house and he smelled like soup all the time.  
Oh, and also, my mother isn't even dead. My aunt is.  
I… I think he was just scared of us dying, too.  
(pause)  
He was just scared.

 

 

LATER

A seven months pregnant woman, Kate, is weeping bitterly. Her sobs are getting worse and with a cry she buries her face in her arms, on top of the table.

KATE  
He was a good man. The perfect husband. He was going to be the… the…  
And we were just sitting in our garden when… when he started yelling…  
I don't even remember about what. He was so frightened-

She is interrupted by a loud yawn from Sherlock.

SHERLOCK  
(standing up)  
This is getting old.

He leaves the room.

JOHN  
(mumbles)  
I'm… so deeply sorry.

He follows Sherlock out.

 

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. DAY

Sherlock storms into the flat, moving about the lounge.

A woman is already there, sitting on the sofa and drinking tea. She has fair pixie hair and is wearing plain gray T shirt, a pair of jeans and white sneakers. Sherlock doesn't even glance her way.

SHERLOCK  
This is good. Everything is falling into place.  
He's not as baffling as he thinks.

The woman, MADISON, follows him with her gaze.

MADISON  
Isn't he?  
(sips)  
Who?

SHERLOCK  
The killer, obviously. Pay attention.

He finds his violin under a discarded blanket.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(playing)  
He was stupid, giving away that first clue.

MADISON  
Which is?

SHERLOCK  
The fear!

Sherlock puts the violin down and hops onto his armchair.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
It's the fear, don't you see?  
They were scared to death, all ninety-eight of them.

MADISON  
Oh, of course. Evident, really.  
(puts her cup down)  
But how?

SHERLOCK  
Yes, yes… how?  
(brings his hands to his head)  
Also, why. Why those people?

MADISON  
Well, personally, I don't think there is a reason.

SHERLOCK  
Of course there is. You don't just kill dozens of people for nothing.

MADISON  
Nothing is the only reason for killing them.  
I mean, I can't think of more than… sixteen people I want dead.  
And I've been making that list since I was five.

SHERLOCK  
Are you saying he's over a hundred?

MADISON  
I'm saying, what if he's just some demented guy who likes doing people in?

SHERLOCK  
No, no, they're never just randomly crazy. There's always something, you know,  
like using an old handkerchief to strangle blonde women who resemble their abusive mother.

Madison smiles.

MADISON  
Mm… or the economy.

SHERLOCK  
Oh I hope it's not the economy…

She laughs and brings her cup to her mouth, but it's empty. She stands up.

MADISON  
A cup of tea?

SHERLOCK  
(looking forward)  
Coffee.

Madison moves to the kitchen.

MADISON  
Sure.

Sherlock gets up and walks around the room again.

SHERLOCK  
Oh, this is why serial killers are the best!

John walks through the door, holding a bunch of letters and going over them.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(halts)  
What are you doing with those letters?

JOHN  
You mean our mail?

SHERLOCK  
Now you're late, we've already went over the clues and-

JOHN  
"We"?

SHERLOCK  
Yes, yes, we…

John stares at Madison, who shows up with a cup of coffee. Only then does Sherlock turns to look at her for the first time. He immediately notices some facts about her, which he discards just as fast.

MADISON  
Finally, you're really looking.

SHERLOCK  
Why come here?

MADISON  
Do you need to ask? I must be at the wrong place.

SHERLOCK  
I know what you want.  
(drinks)  
Just like you know what I'm about to say.

MADISON  
I know.  
(half a smile)  
You're not taking my case.

John puts the post on a side table.

JOHN  
What case? What's going on?

SHERLOCK  
Oh, I apologize. This is John. John, this is-

MADISON  
Madison.

SHERLOCK  
-someone.

Madison smiles at John.

MADISON  
Madison.

SHERLOCK  
Someone. Whose case we're not taking.  
(to Madison)  
Thanks for the coffee.

MADISON  
I need your help.

SHERLOCK  
You're wasting your time. We're not-

He turns his back to her, and nearly runs right into MYCROFT, who's leaning against the door frame.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Oh god.

MYCROFT  
Have you figured out how they were all killed?

JOHN  
Apparently, "how" is the wrong question.

MADISON  
Oh, no, it's a pretty good question. So is "why".

JOHN  
Is there a "why"?

MADISON  
Of course. They're never just randomly psychotic, you know.

MYCROFT  
(to Madison)  
Who are you?

MADISON  
(to Mycroft)  
Someone.

John smiles.

Sherlock takes Madison's bag off the other armchair, peeking inside while doing so, and sits down.

SHERLOCK  
Plus there's our original question.

MYCROFT  
Yes, all brilliant questions. Though I was, admittedly, hoping for some answers.  
You're still a detective, are you not?

John goes to his desk and turns his laptop on.

JOHN  
What is the original question?

MYCROFT  
The question is, Sherlock, do you think you can get off your chair  
and help us catch him?

SHERLOCK  
Always so rude. Can't you see I have other clients?

MYCROFT  
Preferably before he feels like going on a second murder spree.  
(glimpses at Madison)  
And you're not taking her case.

SHERLOCK  
More victims means more clues.

Mycroft moves to stand by the window.

MYCROFT  
Dozens of people may get killed.

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

SHERLOCK  
You don't care for those dead people anymore than I do.

MYCROFT  
But you do want to catch the killer.

SHERLOCK  
Maybe I'd have him in prison by now if you just left and let me do my job.  
(intertwining his fingers)  
Do you honestly think I need your nagging for this one?

JOHN  
(typing)  
I actually care about the victims.

SHERLOCK  
If you did, you would be helping instead of writing  
in your precious little blog like some depressed teenager.

JOHN  
(typing)  
This isn't my blog.

SHERLOCK  
(snaps his head up)  
My blog?

JOHN  
God no.

SHERLOCK  
What is it, then? The news?

JOHN  
Isn't it obvious?

SHERLOCK  
Why would it be?

JOHN  
Oh this is fun.

Sherlock gives Mycroft a look. Mycroft grabs John's laptop and hands it over to his brother. With a sigh, John moves his chair to face Sherlock.

SHERLOCK  
The writer claims to be the killer. How did you find it?

JOHN  
Came up first in the search results.  
There's only one entry but it seems to be quite popular.

MYCROFT  
Already? God I hate the internet.

SHERLOCK  
(reading aloud)  
I apologize for any distress that was caused by my acts last night.  
But you must prepare yourselves. More is yet to come.  
(to the others)  
It is signed by the name…  
(beat)  
Black Angel.

MYCROFT  
Well, that settles it.

JOHN  
Do you reckon it's really our guy?

SHERLOCK  
Only one way to find out.

Sherlock leaves a comment: "The only alarming thing is how badly you messed up. –Sherlock Holmes".

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Well maybe it's not the only way, but it is fun.

JOHN  
Sure, pissing off a mass murderer sounds like a great idea.

Sherlock's phone beeps. He looks at it and gets up.

MYCROFT  
What is it?

SHERLOCK  
The dead bodies I ordered. They're finally here.

John moves to block Sherlock's way.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
What?

JOHN  
(quietly)  
What about her?

Sherlock glimpses at Madison, who stands up from her chair and looks at them.

SHERLOCK  
Boring.  
(smirks)  
And this is the greatest serial killer I've ever heard of outside of a book.

JOHN  
You haven't even listened to her.  
(to Madison)  
Please, I want to hear you out.

MADISON  
I… Well…

She looks around at them all.

MADISON (CONT'D)  
The thing is, I work…  
(smiles)  
I used to work for one of our country's most secretive institutions.

JOHN  
What, are you a secret service agent or something?

MYCROFT  
(glances at Madison)  
A secretary.

Madison smiles.

MADISON  
The man I worked for, Reuben Pierce,  
is wealthy, influential and extremely well connected-

Sherlock snorts.

SHERLOCK  
(to John)  
Notice her makeup. She's not wearing any,  
except for the concealer underneath her eyes,  
hiding the fact she has trouble sleeping.  
Night terrors. Perhaps insomnia.  
She's extremely skinny, which could've just been her figure,  
except her shirt and jeans are two sizes too large.  
She's lost weight, and fast, probably due to repeated vomiting.  
(squints at Madison's purse)  
She's carrying around eye drops,  
a set of hair rubber bands and a key ring.  
Eye drops, because she wants to keep secret  
that she's been crying. Easy. Now, why would a woman with that hairstyle  
take hair elastics with her wherever she goes?  
Probably since she recently cut her hair short.  
So recently she didn't even throw those bands away.  
As for the keys, nothing unusual there,  
except they've hardly been used, and there's six of them.  
Either she just moved to six different apartments,  
or moved once, and had five extra locks installed.  
Swiftly changing appearance and location – she's defiantly  
experiencing an extreme sense of anxiety.  
(facing John)  
It's so obvious, even you can see it.

JOHN  
It does sound like some sort of trauma.

Sherlock walks past John.

SHERLOCK  
It's RTS. Rape trauma syndrome.  
She's been raped, and wants us to find evidence.

He stops by the door and adjusts his suit.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Boring.

He walks out.

John turns to Madison. She lowers her gaze and smiles.

MADISON  
It wasn't some spontaneous act. He wasn't drunk. He wasn't even aroused, at least not… sexually.  
When I entered his room the carpet was rolled up, the floor and desk were covered in nylon and…

Mycroft moves toward the door. He stops next to John.

MYCROFT  
Come on.

John keeps his attention on Madison.

MADISON  
He's wrong.

JOHN  
I'm sorry?

MADISON  
Holmes. He's wrong. I don't need you to find me a proof.  
(looking at John)  
There already is proof. A solid one. I told you, he planned this.  
When I walked into the office, right in front of the table, there was a camera.  
It was already on.

Madison looks away.

MADISON (CONT'D)  
He was so careful. He made sure there was no evidence left. Not except that video.

JOHN  
A video? Wh- why would he keep such a thing?

She shuts her eyes.

Mycroft turns to leave, but after a few steps he halts and faces them again.

MYCROFT  
She wants you to obtain that footage for her.  
Without it, she won't even get a settlement in court.  
(looks at Madison)  
So you see, Sherlock was right after all… it is boring.

He leaves.

John just stares at Madison, who's still looking down.

JOHN  
We'll take your case.

He exits.

 

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET - STAIRWELL. DAY

John is dashing down the stairs when his mobile rings. He answers.

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
John! Where are you?

JOHN  
(into phone)  
At home.

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
Why did you go back?

JOHN  
(into phone)  
Back?

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
(pause)  
You weren't with me on the cab?

JOHN  
(into phone)  
Oh yeah, I just jumped off at some point.

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
Well come back, I need to pay.

 

 

INT. HOSITAL – CORRIDOR OUTSIDE THE MORGUE. DAY

Sherlock walks in. The space is filled with dead bodies covered in sheets. Lestrade is standing by two exposed bodies, a man and a woman. Sherlock heads straight for the fresh corpses.

SHERLOCK  
Well, that's not good.

LESTRADE  
(alarmed)  
What? What is it?

SHERLOCK  
Nothing.

LESTRADE  
What do you mean "nothing"?

Sherlock turns to face him.

SHERLOCK  
What? What? What? Do you like that?

John comes in through the door.

JOHN  
I did a quick calculation. I believe you now owe me  
one hundred eighty thousand four hundred and thirty six pounds.

SHERLOCK  
You just made that up.

LESTRADE  
How can you stand this guy?

SHERLOCK  
I've met thicker people. And wait till you try his fry ups.

JOHN  
I don't cook.

SHERLOCK

I was being nice.

LESTRADE  
I pity your children.

Sherlock moves towards the exit.

LESTRADE (CONT'D)  
Wait!

Sherlock halts and glares back at Lestrade.

LESTRADE (CONT'D)  
How did you know these two will turn up?

SHERLOCK  
Someone with that sense of drama… Maybe he thought ninety eight was just a cool number.  
Or maybe he was going for a hundred. Gee, I don't know.

Sherlock turns again and walks away.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(to John)  
There's nothing different about those corpses.  
Come on, we're going sightseeing.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

EXT. LONDON SIDE STREET. Dusk

Sherlock, facing an apartment block's front door, is browsing through pictures of a flat on his smartphone. Behind him, on the vegetation filled lane, the police are busy warning off a throng of reporters and curious neighbors.

Sherlock holds the mobile to his ear.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Well?

JUMP CUT TO:

 

INT. VICTIM'S FLAT. Dusk

John is leaning against a lounge's wall in the flat Sherlock was just looking at. He's watching a couple of constables moving around the overly designed space, packing up samples and taking pictures. At the dining table sits a scrawny man in silk pajamas.

JOHN  
(into phone)  
Nothing much. The police already  
questioned the husband.

The officers, carrying their bags, pass by John on their way out.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
He's been working hard lately, overslept,  
when he woke up the wife was on the kitchen's floor,  
already dead. Cardiac arrest.

JUMP CUT TO:

 

EXT. LONDON SIDE STREET. Dusk

Sherlock passes the yellow line tapes around the entrance and walks into the building.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Doesn't matter, he's not a suspect.

 

INT. STAIRWELL. continuous

At the far end of the dark hall, the door to the ground floor apartment is open. The path is narrow and Sherlock has to push through policemen to get to the other side.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Just ask him what they were doing at midnight.

JOHN (O.S.)  
I will.

Sherlock reaches the apartment door, where SALLY is blocking the way.

SALLY  
Oh, of course he sent you.

JOHN (O.S.)  
Actually, there's one more thing I'd like to talk to you about.

She makes room for Sherlock to pass.

SALLY  
Knock yourself out.

Sherlock frowns and steps forward.

JOHN (O.S.)  
Thing is, after you left-

Sherlock hangs up.

 

INT. GROUND FLOOR APARTMENT - LOUNGE. continuous

It is a tiny, crumbling room. The walls and the wooden floor are all covered with dirty plastic sheets. The only window is concealed behind a shabby green curtain, which gives the place a sickly hue. In the corner stand a small television set and a comfy chair.

There's a door frame leading to a moldy kitchen, where hushed voices are being heard from.

SALLY  
Don't go in there. We're still questioning her.  
With all the media lurking outside,  
we can't even move her to a hospital.

Sherlock turns his gaze to the only remaining door, the one to the bathroom, which has been knocked over.

SALLY (CONT'D)  
Take a deep breath.

 

INT. GROUND FLOOR APARTMENT - BATHROOM. continuous

Steady electric humming.

This room is even darker than the last one. Rusty pipes are running across the ceiling and down the walls, constantly dripping. Broken metal chains are spread out on the bloody tiles.

Inside the bathtub is an ice-cream cooler. Its windows are steamed up.

Sherlock moves toward it.

SHERLOCK  
(to himself)  
Who says cut off organs?

He flips the lid open and looks inside.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Right. Just amputated heads, then.

 

INT. GROUND FLOOR APARTMENT - LOUNGE. continuous

Sherlock steps back into the room.

SHERLOCK  
Had a thing for redheads. Doesn't help much.

Sally gives him a death glare.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
What?

Sally has her arm around a trembling teenage GIRL with long, wavy ginger hair.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(looks at the girl)  
You, did you watch him die?

SALLY  
Stop it.

The girl shakes her head.

SHERLOCK  
Did you hear him die?

The girl nods.

Sherlock is walking around the room.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Was he screaming?

SALLY  
So loudly that the neighbors called us.

SHERLOCK  
(to the girl)  
And you were locked inside the bathroom?

SALLY  
Shut up.

The girl nods.

Sherlock walks into the kitchen. He's moving stuff around.

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
Do you know how long you've been here?

SALLY  
She was abducted last night.

Sherlock comes back.

SHERLOCK  
Last night? When?

SALLY  
Around ten. Now shut up.

SHERLOCK  
So at midnight, you were already…

He turns to look at the bathroom and the girl nods again.

GIRL  
He dissected the other one. I saw him do it.

SALLY  
(to the girl)  
You don't have to talk to him.

Sherlock's phone rings.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Hold on.  
(to Sally)  
Where did you find the corpse?

Sally points to the comfy chair.

JOHN (O.S.)  
It's like I said. They were tired,  
had a fight, cancelled their plans  
and went to bed early.

Sherlock is circling the seat.

SHERLOCK  
(to Sally)  
Put her in police uniform. Send someone running outside yelling there's a bomb.  
When everyone panics, sneak her into the ambulance.  
(into phone)  
Just as expected. Both victims didn't celebrate New Years'.

Sally nods to Sherlock and leads the girl away.

GIRL  
(mumbles)  
It was on.

She disappears into the hall.

JUMP CUT TO:

 

INT. VICTIM'S FLAT. Dusk

John is now striding back and forth across the lounge.

JOHN  
(into phone)  
Okay. I mean, so the date is different.  
But we still have the same problem, don't we?  
Two people died at the same moment-  
(pauses)  
Is that, is that screaming?

JUMP CUT TO:

 

INT. GROUND FLOOR APARTMENT - LOUNGE. Dusk

Cries of a terrified mob.

Sherlock is peeking through the window, smiling.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Never mind that. The important thing is-  
(steps away from the window)  
What's that noise?

JUMP CUT TO:

 

INT. VICTIM'S FLAT. Dusk

John blinks.

JOHN  
(into phone)  
What noise?

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
The shouting.

JOHN  
(into phone)  
The shouting? That's on your end.

SHERLOCK (O.S.)  
Put your mobile down.

John lowers the phone away from his ear. There's still a faint sound of people yelling. He turns to look around him and notices the television broadcast. It's covering the event at Sherlock's crime scene.

JOHN  
How did-

He raises the phone back to his ear.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
(into phone)  
It's the telly. How did you know?  
(no answer)  
Sherlock?

JUMP CUT TO:

 

INT. GROUND FLOOR APARTMENT - LOUNGE. NIGHT

Sherlock hurries out to the stairwell.

SHERLOCK  
(to himself)  
It was on…

 

INT. STAIRWELL. continuous

Sally is standing there with four constables, one of them stripped of his uniform. Sherlock grabs Sally's shoulder.

SHERLOCK  
Was the television on? Was it on when you arrived?

SALLY  
I don't know.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Ask the husband about the television.  
(to the room)  
Did anyone turn the television off? Anyone?

The officers look at each other. One of them lowers his eyes to the ground and slowly raises his hand.

Sherlock leaps back to the apartment.

 

INT. GROUND FLOOR APARTMENT - LOUNGE. continuous

Sherlock rushes to the television and turns it on. It shows footage of what's happening outside the building.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
What channel are you on?

JOHN (O.S.)  
(beat)  
BBC News. The husband says he never watches television.  
Also, I think he hates me.

Sherlock's eyes are fixed on the screen. The logo says BBC NEWS.

Sherlock freezes for a moment, then smiles.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
They heard something.

JOHN (O.S.)  
I'm sorry, what?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
My guy died sitting in front of the television.  
But yours, she died in the kitchen, away from it.

Sherlock leaves the apartment.

 

INT. STAIRWELL. continuous

Sherlock is striding down the corridor.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
They were both on the same channel, yet she could only hear it.  
So they must have heard something. What can a person hear  
that scares him enough to have a heart attack?

He exits the building.

 

EXT. LONDON SIDE STREET. continuous

Sherlock skips over the front steps and keeps on walking.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Meet me back at home.

JOHN (O.S.)  
Actually, I-

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Hold on. I've got another call.

He turns the street corner and switches between the calls.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(into phone)

Working on it…

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
Something's changed. We've got a coronation in five months.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
And you still haven't found a dress?

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
In five months, Sherlock. The perfect opportunity for this serial killer-

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Oh, relax. The only dreadful thing at the ceremony will be its tackiness.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
Are you anywhere close to finding him, then?

A short pause.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
No. But I will be.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
You sound reassured.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
He's already slipping.  
And he's going to kill more people soon.  
That's more mistakes.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
And if there aren't any more killings?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Five months with no murders?  
(laughs)  
No one will remember who he is.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
(pause)  
Find him.

Sherlock smiles.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
I will.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

INT. RESTAURANT - KITCHEN. DAY

Employees push and shout in the warzone of a kitchen. Chefs are sweating above steaming pots, waiters are carrying packed trays in and out, dishwashers are swearing and laughing and someone keeps hitting the kitchen bell.

WAITER  
Ahmed!

A short waiter takes a look at Ahmed, a fellow server, who is leaning against the kitchen's far wall, talking on the wall phone with a cigarette stuck in his mouth.

WAITER (CONT'D)  
Hey, Ahmed!  
(grumbles)  
Oh bloody hell…

The waiter sighs and takes out a tray full of desserts. Ahmed doesn't even glance his way. He's just holding the phone to his ear. He's muttering something.

AHMED  
No, no, no… no, no… no. No. No. No…

As he keeps mumbling, his hand moves to clutch his chest and he slumps to the floor, handset dangling above him.

 

LATER

Sherlock walks in through the door, followed by John. The large kitchen is desolate except for Lestrade and three other policemen, surrounding Ahmed's body.

SHERLOCK  
(with a smile)  
See? What did I say? More killings!

Lestrade turns to face them.

LESTRADE  
One. One killing.

 

EXT. AMUSEMENT PARK – FERRIS WHEEL. DAY

The corpse of a fat, greasy man is stretched out in one of the ferris wheel's carts. Lestrade and John stand beside it. A few feet away, Sherlock walks around with his head facing down.

LESTRADE  
What's he doing?

John shrugs. Behind them, Sherlock kneels.

LESTRADE (CONT'D)  
(staring at the body)  
Any one of them can be just a normal heart attack.

Sherlock gets up from the ground, holding a cracked old mobile and looking straight above him, to the top of the ferris wheel. He grins.

 

EXT. LONDON STREET. DAY

Sherlock and John follow Lestrade through a bunch of busy constables.

LESTRADE  
He was holding a phone. How did you know?

At the centre of the gathering is a businessman's dead body, a smartphone lying right next to his ear.

SHERLOCK  
A couple of people hear something on television that terrifies them to death.  
Then a guy dies while on the phone. Think about it, you'll figure it out.

LESTRADE  
Fine. We'll track the call.

Sherlock scowls at him.

LESTRADE (CONT'D)  
What? We might find something.

SHERLOCK steps away from him and kneels beside the body.

SHERLOCK  
(to himself)  
What did they hear? And more importantly…  
(picks up the mobile)  
What does it all have in common?

John walks over to Sherlock.

JOHN  
Sherlock, I need to-

Sherlock's phone goes off and he answers immediately.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
What?

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
Three months until the coronation, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
I know.

He hangs up.

SHERLOCK (cont'd)  
(to himself)  
Connections again. There has to be a connection.

JOHN  
Sherlock, there's something important I need to tell you.

SHERLOCK  
(laughs)  
What could possibly be more important than this?

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. EVENING

John sits in front of the television while Sherlock strides back and forth behind him.

SHERLOCK  
You took it?!

John hums.

On the television screen is REUBEN PIERCE, a lanky man in a fitted grey suit, standing in a court's hallway between two bodyguards and answering newsmen's questions.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
But we have someone who's slaughtering people! Biblical style!

John turns up the volume.

REUBEN (O.S.)  
People who have the truth on their side don't bustle looking for private detectives.  
(a smile)  
None of them, by the way, took her case.

While Reuben speaks, his fingers trace the collar of his dress shirt, just beneath the neckline.

Sherlock keeps moving around, occasionally blocking John's view of the screen.

SHERLOCK  
He's giving me new clues. So arrogant! Eventually he'll go too far, giving himself away.

REUBEN (O.S.)  
…Of course I'm calm. I know there is no evidence. There can be no evidence.

Reuben smiles at his crowd, all the while his hand is toying with a silver chain around his neck.

SHERLOCK  
(glimpsing at the screen)  
Why, why, why did you take it?

JOHN  
Have you considered it's because I actually care…

John's next words die out as the door opens and three suited men carry dozens of carton boxes into the lounge.

SHERLOCK  
(to John)  
Oh, don't mind them. I asked Mycroft to deliver  
all the information he can possibly get on the victims.  
(a short laugh)  
It's driving him crazy.

Sherlock makes room for the men and moves to stand by the window.

JOHN  
You do realize it's our place that's getting filled with paperwork?

Sherlock looks outside.

SHERLOCK  
(quietly)  
A restaurant, an amusement park, a busy street…

JOHN  
Did you say something?

SHERLOCK  
All crowded places. They must have been surrounded by people, by sounds…  
(moving around again)  
What if it's not the phone calls? What if it's the location?

He gets a text message, takes a look and heads for the exit.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Another body. Come on.

Sherlock opens the door.

JOHN  
I can't. I need to find the footage.

SHERLOCK  
(jumping in place)  
Oh, never mind that, it's on him.  
(shaking his hand at the telly)  
That necklace he keeps touching,  
its pendant is a memory stick.  
Easy. Now come on.

He turns and rushes down the stairs.

The three suited men stare at John, who turns to look at Reuben's gesture.

SHERLOCK (O.S.) (CONT'D)  
(from downstairs)  
Bet you ten quid we're going someplace crowded!

 

EXT. FIELD. NIGHT

It is quiet and dark, with the only light coming from a parked police car's headlights. Sherlock and John stare at a middle aged man's body, half-hidden by tall grass.

An owl hoots.

A policewoman puts the dead man's mobile in a plastic bag. Another stands by the woods, talking to a shivering couple, who keep pointing at the body.

SHERLOCK  
(scowling)  
Did he do that on purpose? Is he toying with me,  
making up patterns and methods?

Sherlock keeps staring forward. His smartphone vibrates in his hand. It's a call from Mycroft. He buries the phone in his pocket.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(takes a breath)  
Or was I desperate to see something that wasn't there?

Sherlock closes his eyes.

His mobile beeps. A text message: "One month".

 

INT. CINEMA. NIGHT

Sherlock and John tower over a corpse with a mobile in its hand.

SHERLOCK  
Answered his phone during the film. How about we let that one go?

Sherlock grins and turns to John, but John had stepped aside, reading something on his smartphone. Sherlock rushes to him.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Is it the killer? Did he answer my message?

JOHN  
It's an e-mail. The judge won't issue a warrant,  
so the prosecutor will try again, only-

SHERLOCK  
(moving away)  
Oh.

JOHN  
Yes, it seems the memory stick has top secret information on it.  
Turns out this Reuben is an important-

LESTRADE  
(coming over)  
We couldn't find the caller, it was a-

SHERLOCK  
Of course you didn't. We need him to make a mistake,  
but no way it will be such an idiotic one.

LESTRADE  
What if he never does?

SHERLOCK  
He's killing hundreds of people. He will.

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. NIGHT

John is sitting at the desk, typing on his laptop, while Sherlock moves around the room.

JOHN  
(sighs)  
The judge won't help me. The police won't help me.  
Maybe I should just approach him and-

SHERLOCK  
They'll shoot you.

Sherlock crashes on the sofa.

JOHN  
Excuse me?

SHERLOCK  
Reuben's bodyguards. They'll shoot you down if you even go near him.

JOHN  
Then what if-

SHERLOCK  
It's not fair! He's giving me fake clues, leading me on!  
That's not how it's supposed to go!

JOHN  
(looking at the laptop screen)  
You're being childish.

SHERLOCK  
Me? He's the one who's cheating!

John receives a text message.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
What is it? Your stupid case?

John looks at him.

JOHN  
It's Mycroft. Two weeks.

 

INT. PICCADILLY CIRCUS UNDERGROUND STATION. NIGHT

Sherlock is standing with Lestrade on the platform. A shutdown wagon is parked with its doors open; a teenager's body lying half outside the cart.

SHERLOCK  
So they just… get to the stop and die?

LESTRADE  
Seems like it.

SHERLOCK  
He's never killed so many people at the same place before.

LESTRADE  
Different times, too. And no phone. What does it mean?

SHERLOCK  
It means he likes showing off.

They stare forward in silence.

LESTRADE  
You know that in five days-

SHERLOCK  
Yes.

Lestrade takes a deep breath.

LESTRADE  
What if it's a-

SHERLOCK  
No.

An incoming call for Lestrade. He steps aside to take it.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(to himself)  
This is new. New is good. New means something.

He glares at the dead teenager.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
This has to tell us something.

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. NIGHT

The place is crammed with Mycroft's boxes and papers. John sits on the sofa in front of his closed laptop, his head held in his hands. Sherlock can't stand still.

SHERLOCK  
It doesn't matter where it happens. It doesn't matter how they hear it.

When he speaks, John looks up.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
He can kill as much as he wishes, I'm still no closer than I was on day one!

JOHN  
I need your help.

Sherlock turns to him.

SHERLOCK  
You weren't with me on the investigation.

JOHN  
I have no choice. I must get that memory stick, but no matter what I do…

Sherlock walks across the room when he bumps into a stack of papers, sending them to the floor.

JOHN  
It would really help-

SHERLOCK  
I don't have time for another case.

JOHN  
But if you could-

SHERLOCK  
It's just rape, John!

They stare at each other.

Sherlock turns and crosses to the other side of the room, crouches in his armchair and picks up his laptop.

They both type silently, eyes on their computer screens.

Without a word, John gets up. He grabs his laptop and coat, and stomps to the door. He turns off the light as he leaves. The door slams shut.

In the darkness, the laptop's pale glow barely illuminates Sherlock's face. The screen shows Sherlock's comment on Black Angel's blog. Still no reply from the self-proclaimed killer.

Sherlock's phone goes off, breaking the silence. Eyes glued to the screen, finger hitting the refresh button, he answers.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
John?

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
The coronation is tomorrow.

Sherlock straightens up.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
I know.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
For a mass murderer with a god complex, this is a-

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
He doesn't have a god complex.  
He would've answered my degrading message by now if he did.  
I know I would have.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
But there will be another slaughter.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Definitely.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
What are your chances of stopping him?

Sherlock refreshes the web page again.

MYCROFT (CONT'D)  
(O.S.)  
Sherlock?

He pushes the laptop away, its light now falling on the numerous piles of papers and boxes.

MYCROFT (CONT'D)  
(O.S.)  
Well… if there's anything you need, anything at all… just let me know.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Right.

Sherlock hangs up. He looks to the side, sighing, when his gaze lands on the cartons and documents.

With a scowl, he reaches out and grabs a folder from the top of a stack. He turns to the first page, then flips to the next, and to the next…

 

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY. DAY

The National Anthem is in the air as a swarm of journalists, tourists and cheering citizens crams around the abbey. Broadcasts in every language blend together as reporters comment on everything from the weather to the hats.

People wearing flag T-shirts, hats and shoes move around, trying to get a better spot. None of them spares a glance at the body of a man, lying supine between their moving feet, frozen hand clasping its chest.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. DAY

Sherlock leans forward in his armchair, eyes glued to the television. He's watching the news, which reruns deaths outside Westminster Abbey and all over the kingdom.

The headline reads: BLACK ANGEL'S ROYAL SPREE – 30 DEAD.

Outside the door, footsteps are coming up the stairwell.

Sherlock changes the channel to a daytime drama and sits back, pulling a blanket around himself just when the door creaks and John walks in.

JOHN  
Oh, good morning.

When Sherlock doesn't answer, John takes a step closer.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
Did you… um, did you hear what happened?

Sherlock turns to look at him.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
(approaching Sherlock)  
Look, about yesterday, I just wanted to say-

SHERLOCK  
Dating the rape victim, John? Really?

JOHN  
(halts)  
What? No, I didn't…  
(sighs)  
How did you know?

SHERLOCK  
Are you genuinely surprised?

JOHN  
Y- N- But… no, you have nothing on me.

SHERLOCK  
Well, there are your socks.

JOHN  
You can't see my socks.

SHERLOCK  
Exactly.

JOHN  
You know what, never m-

SHERLOCK  
Your socks are hidden. That's precisely why you didn't bother buying new ones, isn't that right?  
Everything else, however, was purchased just now, on your way here.  
You even washed your hair. You never bothered with any of that before.  
No, you're defiantly trying to hide something from me.

JOHN  
Satisfied now?

SHERLOCK  
Are you? You've yawned three times in the past minute, have dark circles under your eyes and your voice is hoarse.  
Either you had a really good date, or, more likely, you two stayed up all night and talked.  
Either way, that makes you ashamed, so ashamed that you didn't want me to find out.  
Why would you of all people be embarrassed about seeing someone? Because… you're dating Mandy.

JOHN  
Madison.

SHERLOCK  
Whatever.

John turns around.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
End it.

He stops and faces Sherlock again.

JOHN  
What? You mean, because she's..?

SHERLOCK  
We've got a murder case on our hands, John. I don't have time for a relationship.

JOHN  
I. I'm dating her.

SHERLOCK  
Yes, sure. For now. Before I know it she'll want to get to know all your friends, meaning me,  
she'll spend all of her time here, following us around to the cinema and-

JOHN  
You mean you'll be following us to the cinema.

SHERLOCK  
Like I said, I don't have time for this.

JOHN  
Okay, fine. I'm here now.

John sits down across from Sherlock.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
What do you want to do?

SHERLOCK  
(curling in his chair)  
I don't know.

JOHN  
We can… go out to dinner.

SHERLOCK  
(pouting)  
I'm not hungry.

Mrs. Hudson arrives at the apartment door behind John.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
What do you need a girlfriend for, anyway? I should be enough…

Mrs. Hudson covers her mouth and tiptoes away.

JOHN  
How about some tea, then?

SHERLOCK  
Look at that!

Sherlock opens the lid of John's laptop, which lies on the side table, and turns it around to him.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
He keeps writing in his stupid blog.

JOHN  
So?

SHERLOCK  
So I know he's seen my message! He's just ignoring it. Why would he ignore it?

JOHN  
(peeking at the screen)  
It's a wonderful comment. Very well put.

Sherlock grabs the laptop back and buries his head behind it.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
Have you, um, by any chance, heard the other news?

SHERLOCK  
What, you mean the priests thing? I don't really-

John takes out a simple envelope and places it on the side table.

JOHN  
Payment from Madison. For the time dedicated to her case.

Sherlock eyes the envelope.

SHERLOCK  
Oh, good.  
(silence)  
You're back, then?

John nods.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Was it the thirty murders that finally made you realize a serial killer is top priority?

JOHN  
Pierce was acquitted.

Sherlock doesn't respond.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
It's over now. Or at least, Madison said it was.  
She doesn't want me to investigate any further.  
She thanked me for trying. It felt… awful.

Sherlock types something.

SHERLOCK  
She's right. It's over.

JOHN  
Maybe it's not. There has to be something we can do. We could try for a retrial.

SHERLOCK  
Not without that necklace. And not without her.

JOHN  
We can still get it. There has to be a way.

SHERLOCK  
Please, stop.

JOHN  
What?

Sherlock lifts his gaze from the laptop to meet John's.

SHERLOCK  
That's one of the comments to Black Angel. "Please, stop".

John gets up and heads for the door.

JOHN  
I'm going to get some rest.

Sherlock keeps on typing. John halts at the entrance.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
There has to be something we can do.

SHERLOCK  
(staring at the screen)  
You're an idiot.

JOHN  
Is that another comment?

SHERLOCK  
(before John finishes)  
No.

JOHN  
Right.  
(takes a step outside the door)  
I'll see you later, then.

John exits. Sherlock leaves the laptop and picks up his violin.

While playing, he moves to the window and looks outside. There he sees John, standing on the pavement. He lingers there for a moment, then takes off.

Sherlock scowls as he watches John turn the street corner.

Throwing the violin on the sofa, he dashes through the door, down the stairs and out into the street.

 

EXT. STREET. DAY

Hurrying down the street, following John's back, Sherlock snatches an old man's fedora hat off his head. As he keeps getting closer and closer, he picks up a newspaper from a nearby stand. John stops and turns around.

Right before his eyes, in the middle of the pavement, Sherlock stands frozen, barefoot and still in his dressing gown, face hidden behind a large newspaper with just a hat sticking out.

John takes a few steps backwards, his gaze still on Sherlock, who is as unmoving as a statue. A bus stops at the station and John gets on it, all the time eyeing his friend, who doesn't budge an inch. The bus drives off.

Sherlock's gaze remains fixed on the newspaper. His hands are shaking around the paper's ends. A small laugh escapes him.

SHERLOCK  
(whispers)  
I've got him…  
(smiling)  
I've got him!

He swings around and sprints back to the house, newspaper in hand.

On his run he passes the old man from before, who grabs his hat back.

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. CONTINUOUS

Sherlock shoots through the entrance door and up the stairs, bursting into the empty flat, a huge smile plastered on his face.

SHERLOCK  
Of course, of course, so simple! How could I've been so stupid?!  
Oh, this is magnificent. This is it!

He gets to the pile of old newspapers and probes through them.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Oh, where are you? Where are you?

His eyes are bright and sparkly.

A phone rings.

He brings the mobile to his smirking mouth.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(into phone)  
Mycroft! I have great news for you!

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
Sherlock, where the bloody hell have you been?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
What do you mean? I'm at my-

SHERLOCK freezes.

JUMP CUT TO:

 

INT. RESTAURANT. NIGHT

Sherlock looks down. He's wearing a suit and sitting on a dining chair.

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
I was beginning to think you'd gone and done something stupid.

He lifts his gaze to a small, round table covered in a plum coloured tablecloth.

On his side of the table are an almost finished salad bowl, a dessert plate with some crumbs and smudged chocolate syrup on it and an empty coffee cup. Across from him are untouched shortcake and tea.

He turns to the left and rises from his chair, taking a few steps in the direction of a mirror wall.

MYCROFT (CONT'D)  
(O.S.)  
Sherlock?

Phone still held to his ear, Sherlock stares at his reflection.

A PATTERN OF MUD DROPS around the hems of his trousers suggest that he was walking in the rain not two hours ago.

The BUG BITES on his neck indicate he'd spent time at the park.

There's a BLACK SMEAR on his button up white shirt. He put a hand in his pocket and pulls out an OYSTER TUBE CARD. He blinks at it.

Another piece of paper falls from behind it. SHERLOCK picks it up. It's a USED CINEMA TICKET for the four o'clock show. He looks at his watch. It is now SEVEN THIRTY FIVE in the evening.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
What was it? I can't remember. What did I find out?

Sherlock turns to look at the empty chair on the other side of the table, grinning.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(into phone)  
The pattern. It's the pattern. I've met the killer. He was right here. New Year's, the broadcasts, the phones, the station.  
This is it. I know how he killed all those people. But it doesn't matter. What matters is the pattern.  
There's a reason, there's always a reason. I knew it. Think, Mycroft, think. Why didn't he kill me?

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
Hold on. You've met the killer? Where is he now? What does he look like?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
No idea, you see, his method, what he does, it's-

Sherlock stops. His eyes move to his own chair.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(into phone)  
Why were you looking for me? What did you mean, "did something stupid"? What happened?

MYCROFT (O.S.)  
You mean you don't know?

 

INT. COURT STEPS. DAY

In the centre of a media crowd stands a smirking Reuben Pierce, microphones and cameras pointed at him and two suited men towering behind his shoulders.

REUBEN  
Resentment? No, of course not. Why would I?

A reporter in a puffy coat coughs.

REPORTER  
Many would feel that way, after suffering such a blow to their public image.

REUBEN  
Then allow me to take advantage of this opportunity and declare that I find these events represent all that is right in this country's justice system.  
The police did its job by responding to the accusations, and our judges did theirs by clearing me.

A balding pressman steps forward and raises his hand.

PRESSMAN  
Not everything you suffered was due to the system's proper functioning.

Reuben's smile fade.

REUBEN

Yes. You refer, of course, to that unfortunate incident after the verdict. Well, let me just say that we mustn't judge too harshly.  
After all, we're talking about a man who had sacrificed his time, safety and, as it seems, his sanity, to protect every single one of us.  
I will hear no more about it.

Reuben's men clear the way and he gets into his car. A journalist with purple umbrella follows him down the stairs.

JOURNALIST  
You speak forgivingly, yet you don't strike me as being too troubled by what you did to this soldier.

Reuben passes his fingers on his collar.

REUBEN  
I respect his bravery to fight for what he believes in, but when someone, even an ex-soldier,  
is trying to put his hands on sensitive information, it's only to be expected that he gets shot down.  
(smiling at them)  
Thank you.

He closes the car's door.

 

INT. 221B BAKER STREET. NIGHT

Sherlock leans against the door as it slams shut. He walks into the room and barely makes it to the armchair before he slumps down.

His hands fist on top of his legs, but his face is calm.

His face contorts and his fists grow tighter just when a beeping sound makes him look to the side. He stares down to John's laptop, which lies open on the table beside him.

There's a notification. It's from Black Angel's blog. Beneath Sherlock's message there is now a new comment.

BLACK ANGEL: "Thanks for dinner".

Sherlock leans forward, half smiling, and types in: "I know you kill them with sound".

He stares at the screen, fingers twitching.

BLACK ANGEL: "Good for you. Ten more will die tonight".

Sherlock's smile widens.

SHERLOCK: "Exactly ten, or just eight"?

Sherlock chuckles.

MRS. HUDSON (O.S.)  
Sherlock!

Sherlock cringes. He turns to Mrs. Hudson, who's standing at the door, but his eyes are lowered to the floor.

MRS. HUDSON (CONT'D)  
What are you doing? You should be at the hospital.  
(comes closer to him)  
Dear, haven't you heard?

SHERLOCK  
I did. I heard he was fine now. I still have a mass murderer to find, remember?

MRS. HUDSON  
But do you really have to enjoy it so much? Have you even called-

SHERLOCK  
Of course I do! That's what helps me catch them! Now can't you make yourself useful? Go make some tea, or-

Mrs. Hudson turns on her heel.

MRS. HUDSON  
Make your own damn tea!

She stomps down the stairs.

Sherlock places his fingers on the keyboard, but doesn't type. His eyes scan the room. When his gaze is once again fixed on the screen, he pulls out his mobile and dials.

JOHN (O.S.)  
Sherlock? I…

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
What was I doing before you left?

JOHN (O.S.)  
(beat)  
Before I left? You mean, that thing on the street?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
I was on the street?

JOHN (O.S.)  
Don't you remember?

A pause.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Of course I remember.  
(beat)  
Never mind that, what was I doing?

JOHN (O.S.)  
I don't know, insulting me, checking the killer's blog… Why?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
Right after you left I realized something. Something important. But then I met the killer and-

JOHN (O.S.)  
Wait, you've met the killer? Sherlock, are you alright?

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
I'm great. In fact, I've got a new lead. I'll tell you all about it, meet me at the morgue.

JOHN (O.S.)  
Meet you at the… what? No. Sherlock, I'm in the hospital. I got shot.

Sherlock crooks a smile.

SHERLOCK  
(into phone)  
You got shot before.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM. NIGHT

Mycroft enters the white, fluorescent illuminated room. At its corner, in a narrow bed, sits John, who quickly puts his mobile aside.

MYCROFT  
Good news. I was able to prevent any further proceedings against you.

JOHN  
Thanks.

Mycroft eyes John's phone.

MYCROFT  
He does care, you know.

JOHN  
I know.

John straightens up.

JOHN (CONT'D)  
I can't believe he got away.

MYCROFT  
People like Reuben Pierce get away every day.

JOHN  
Right… boring.

Mycroft takes a look around the empty room.

MYCROFT  
Am I the only one here?

JOHN  
That's pretty obvious, isn't it?

MYCROFT  
It just wasn't really what I expected.

JOHN  
Yes, well, you know. Everyone's busy.  
And people don't save their vacation days just to waste them at the hospital.

MYCROFT  
And Madison?

JOHN  
Went back to her mother's house.

MYCROFT  
Why-

JOHN  
In France.

Mycroft nods and walks to the door, but when he opens it he pauses and faces John again.

MYCROFT

Doesn't it bother you? You have no real job, no future, no steady relationship.  
All you've got are those stupid little adventures, and one day, it will get you killed.

JOHN  
We have to go somehow.

MYCROFT  
Think about it. What if you die and the only one who'll ever notice is Sherlock Holmes?

John shifts his gaze from Mycroft to his phone.

JOHN  
One is enough.

 

INT. MORGUE. NIGHT

Sherlock is standing on an autopsy table. In front of him, set in a row, are six mortuary cots with fresh corpses. His eyes move from one body to the next and back again.

SHERLOCK  
Almost two hundred victims.  
It's not that there's no connection, it's that there are too many.

Next to another metallic table, Molly is inspecting a seventh body. She lifts her eyes to look at Sherlock.

MOLLY  
Umm…

SHERLOCK  
Take any random group of people and you'll find some common denominators.  
But what's so important to him that he won't budge even if it puts him in danger?

MOLLY  
Um, Sherlock?

SHERLOCK  
I was on to him. He could have killed me, but chose not to.  
What is it… what's so important?  
(glimpses at Molly)  
What?

MOLLY  
I think, since it's just a few storeys up, I think you should probably, you know, visit John?

SHERLOCK  
Is that so?

MOLLY  
Yes, I mean, he's probably waiting for you and, it's actually not okay that you're-

Through the door, little by little and supported by a walker, enters John.

MOLLY (CONT'D)  
Oh.

She hides her face and pokes the body with a scalpel.

SHERLOCK  
(to John)  
Come here, I need your help on something.

John moves closer to Sherlock, one step at a time.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(sits down on the table)  
How would you describe me?

JOHN  
You? Let's see. Obsessive, genius, stylish, bored, addict, pale, childish, spoiled-

MOLLY  
Dreamy.

Sherlock and John both turn their heads to stare at her.

MOLLY (CONT'D)  
I mean, not that I think that. Just, you know, if I had to describe you…

JOHN  
Why do you ask?

SHERLOCK  
Because for some reason, I don't fit.

JOHN  
How can you tell?

SHERLOCK  
If I did, I'd be dead.

John gets to Sherlock.

JOHN  
So what do you need me for?

SHERLOCK  
Gloves.

JOHN  
Gloves?

SHERLOCK  
Yes. I need gloves.

John looks around. The latex gloves are on a shelf by the door he just walked in through. He turns around and shuffles to the room's entrance.

JOHN  
(under his breath)  
Insufferable.

SHERLOCK  
I'm sorry, what was that? You reckon he only murders tolerable people?

JOHN  
Well let's not rule it out just yet.

SHERLOCK  
This guy can kill anyone he wants without leaving a trace, but instead he chooses to have dinner.  
This pattern of his must be damn important.

JOHN  
Or maybe he does just find you dreamy.

MOLLY  
Is it true what you wrote on the blog? That you know how he kills?

SHERLOCK  
(looking at the bodies)  
Yes.

John, having just reached the gloves, turns to Sherlock again.

JOHN  
Well?

SHERLOCK  
Well what?

JOHN  
How can he possibly do that?

SHERLOCK  
I thought it was obvious.

John and Molly gawk at him.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Oh, right, not obvious. He did it the same way he erased a whole day off my memory.  
Dozens of people… literally scared to death by sounds.

John is limping back to Sherlock.

JOHN  
What sounds?

SHERLOCK  
Doesn't matter. Can be whatever noise he chooses. He meets with his victims in advance,  
and by the time they hear it, the conditioning is already in their heads.  
(hops off the table)  
Hypnosis.

John and Molly are gawking again.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
(walking around)  
He hypnotizes them, using sounds to create a suggestion of fear.  
A fear so great, it actually causes a heart attack!

JOHN  
That's… pretty cool.

SHERLOCK  
(snickers)  
Isn't it?

JOHN  
So, New Year's?

SHERLOCK  
The countdown.

MOLLY  
Piccadilly Circus?

SHERLOCK  
Subway announcement.

John hands Sherlock the gloves, but he doesn't take them. Instead, he looks beyond John, to the three new bodies that are being brought into the morgue.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
John…

John glances at the corpses as they're rolled past him. At the third body, his eyes widen.

Next to the line of dead bodies, on a metallic platform, lies a dead Reuben Pierce.

The corpse's face is white and stiff.

John says something but Sherlock, who is pacing toward the body, cannot hear him.

 

INT. RESTAURANT. NIGHT – FLASHBACK

Next to his untouched tea, the killer's hand fists around dark tablecloth.

BLACK ANGEL  
Rapists… rapists I hate the most.

 

INT. MORGUE. NIGHT

Sherlock stares into space.

JOHN  
Sherlock?

Turning his head to the other bodies, every irrelevant deduction is ignored. Sherlock now concentrates only on specific information.

He sneers, pulls out his mobile and starts typing.

SHERLOCK  
You…

SHERLOCK: "YOU"

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Only…

SHERLOCK: "ONLY"

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)  
Kill…

SHERLOCK: "KILL"

Sherlock smiles.

SHERLOCK: "CRIMINALS".

John and Molly exchange looks and pull out their phones, both entering Black Angel's blog.

They all stare at the screens, holding their breaths. The answer soon follows.

BLACK ANGEL: "Well, those bastards had it coming".

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoy this story! If you do, please kudo and/or comment - it is very much appreciated!  
> See you in the next chapter.


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